


Representation

by RoseByAnyOtherName17



Series: 30 Day Writing Challenge (Derek/Stiles) [29]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Homecoming, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 23:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7821571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseByAnyOtherName17/pseuds/RoseByAnyOtherName17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek was pretty sure that Beacon Hills wasn't a great place to live for a guy who had a degree in Technical Science.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Representation

Upon graduating college, Stiles had moved back to Beacon Hills despite the fact that Derek knew he had gotten at least three job offers from other states. “The pack’s here,” he said by way of explanation, when Derek had come to his little apartment. Derek hadn’t even said anything, but Stiles kept talking anyways. “And I don’t really feel like living in a huge city for the next few years.”

Derek nodded slowly. “What are you going to do?” He was pretty sure that a degree in Technical Science couldn’t go very far in Beacon Hills. Sure, it wasn’t necessarily a small town, but even so, it didn’t seem like a land of opportunities, especially for a person like Stiles. 

Stiles grinned. “Come on,” he said as he began unpacking several mismatched bowls into a cabinet. “You really think I went to college just to major in Tech Science?” When Derek narrowed his eyes in confusion, he continued. “No, that was just a cover. Every class that wasn’t required was devoted to mythology, fantasy, lore from literally all over the world. It was a very small group of students, and I did get invited to join what I’m pretty sure was a cult. Also, Deaton gave me connections to a person who could teach me more about magic so I can be a proper emissary to you guys.”

Derek looked Stiles over in amazement. He had grown into his own skin, shoulders broad, corded muscles flexing when he moved. He wasn’t built like a tank, but he looked strong. Had he taken the bite, Derek was certain that he might be one of the strongest werewolves he had ever met, even without training, which Stiles had actually been receiving from Derek himself whenever he came home, or when Derek visited him at school. He couldn’t take down a werewolf with his hands alone, but he had proved himself more than once to be able to hold his own, in practice and in action.

He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the urge to provoke Stiles into pushing him against something, to see if he could keep Derek pinned. “So…?”

Stiles took a few steps toward him and leaned in conspiratorially. Derek shivered as Stiles’ mouth just barely brushed his ear. “I’m going to be a teacher,” he whispered. He pulled away with a smirk and Derek hoped absently that his eyes weren’t glazed out. Because that wouldn’t be a flashing sign of want or anything like that. “At the high school,” Stiles added, turning back to unpacking dishes. “They’ve been wanting to do a mythology elective for a few years now, but no one has been interested. The pay’s pretty good for a guy fresh out of college, and I figure, this way, I can talk all I want and no one can stop me.” 

Derek huffed out a laugh at that. “You don’t talk that much anymore.”

“That’s because, the last few years, you’ve only seen me when I’m training or studying, or saving your ass from yet another idiotic supernatural being that decided Beacon Hills was the place to be.”

“Yeah, well.” Derek stepped forward. “I brought you these. Well, Cora told me to, she said they’d make the place look a little brighter, but I picked it all out and everything. You know, as a kind of housewarming thing.”

Stiles took the little bouquet from him and smiled again. “You got me fake flowers?”

“They last longer,” Derek said with a shrug. 

Stiles put them on the counter and stepped towards Derek again, coming right into his space like he belonged there. He didn’t hug him, hardly even touched him, but he pressed his cheek to Derek’s in a way that nestled his nose in the spot under Derek’s ear, and that was… “Are you—are you scent marking me?” His heart skipped a little in his chest when Stiles didn’t move, except to lightly touch his hip and breathe in a little.

“Scott used to do it all the time with Allison,” Stiles said quietly. “Something about making her seem like less of a threat to other werewolves.” He paused. “He did it with Kira too, until she told him that he didn’t need to because she isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He still does now, but not to put a claim on her, more because he likes it.”

His lips ghosted across Derek’s skin every time he spoke, and he couldn’t breathe like this, but he didn’t want to pull away. Instead he brought a hand up to Stiles’ waist, curling his fingers into his shirt, and wrapped the other around his back until they were just hugging. “Pretty sure it isn’t normal for a human to want to stake a claim quite like that,” he muttered, gratified by Stiles’ breath going shallow. “Usually they just put a ring on it, or something.”

Stiles laughed, but it wasn’t the confident way he had been talking earlier. “You’re still living in the dark ages. Usually it’s just put on the internet.”

“I don’t want my picture on the internet,” Derek grumbled.

“I know. That’s why I’m doing this. Figured you’d appreciate the gesture.”

They didn’t move for a long time.


End file.
